Dorothy Dixon Wins Her Wings. Wayne Dorothy

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СКАЧАТЬ you are, Dorothy. I'm not much on ceremony, myself, as the Irishman said when-"

      "Look here, Bill!" Dorothy tossed her head impatiently, "I wish you'd omit the comedy-it really isn't necessary. I'll admit I was in a bad way when you dragged me out of the briny deep-and I appreciate your coming to my rescue. But you needn't expect me to faint or to throw hysterics. That sort of thing went out of fashion long ago. Girls today have just as much nerve as boys. They don't very often get a chance to prove it, that's all."

      "Please accept my humblest apology, mademoiselle." Bill's eyes twinkled though his tone was utterly serious. "I can assure you-"

      Dorothy's merry laugh rang out-her mood had passed as suddenly as it had come. "Don't be absurd. Tell me-why are you piloting a rumrunner?"

      "Rumrunner? What do you mean?"

      "If this isn't a rumrunner, why do you carry that machine gun and the rifles and revolvers in the armsrack?"

      "Just part of our equipment, that's all."

      Dorothy's impatience flared up again. "Why do you talk such nonsense?"

      "Nonsense?"

      "Certainly. You don't mean to tell me that you took a boat of this size on long cruises!"

      Bill grinned in the darkness. "But you see," he chuckled, "this isn't a boat."

      "Well, what is it then?"

      "A Loening amphibian. Not exactly the stock model, for Dad and I had quite a few changes made in the cabin and this pilot's cockpit."

      "What?" shrieked Dorothy. "An airplane-one that can land either on water or on land?"

      "That's right. The old crate has the hull of a boat equipped with retractible wheel landing gear which operates electrically."

      "You're too technical for me," she said frowningly, and balanced herself with a hand on the back of the pilot's seat. "But if this is an airplane, why keep bouncing along on the water? I'd think you'd fly to land and have done with it."

      "My dear girl-" began Bill.

      "Don't use that patronizing tone-I'm not your dear girl-not by a long shot!"

      Bill laughed outright. "My error once more. However, Miss Spitfire, when you learn to fly, you'll find out that air currents are very like water currents. When it is blowing as hard as it is now, flying a plane is fully as dangerous as sailing a boat-more so, in fact. When the wind reaches a certain velocity, it is impossible to balance your plane. You have to land-or crash."

      Dorothy was beginning to understand. "Then you must have taken some awful risks coming out after me."

      "I was lucky," he admitted. "But you see, even if we were able to fly in this gale, now, it's quite impossible to take off in such a heavy sea. If I gave the old bus enough gas to get up a flying speed, these combers would batter the hull in-I'd never be able to get her onto her step. Some day, when it's fine, and the water's smooth, I'll show you what I meant by that. Now all we can do is to taxi."

      "Taxi? – This is the first seagoing taxi I've ever been in!"

      "In air parlance," he explained, "to taxi is to run a plane along the ground or on the water-just now, it isn't all it's cracked up to be."

      "I should think it would be easier than flying."

      "Not on water as rough as this. Your legs go to sleep with the strain you have to put on the rudder pedals."

      "Oh-you're steering with your feet?"

      "Yes."

      "Well, why don't you let me help you? I'll drive her for a while," offered Dorothy.

      Bill shook his head. "It's terribly hard work," he demurred.

      "What of it? I'm as strong as an ox."

      "Thanks a lot. You're a real sport. But the difficulty is in shifting places with me without swamping the old bus. She isn't equipped with dual controls. There's only one set of pedals, and as soon as I release them she will slue broadside to the waves, the wings will crumple, and she'll simply swamp and go under."

      "And you must taxi either before the wind, or into the wind as we are now, in seas like these?"

      "You've guessed it," he nodded.

      "But there must be some way we can manage it," argued Dorothy. "You can't keep on much longer. Your legs will give out and then we'll go under anyway."

      Bill hesitated a moment. "Well, all right, let's try it-but it's no cinch, as you'll find out."

      "That's O.K. with me. Come on-orders, please-and let's go!"

       Chapter III

      A WILD RIDE

      "Hey, not so fast," laughed Bill. "First of all, will you please step into the cabin, and in the second locker on your right you'll find a helmet and a phone-set. Bring them out here. This shouting is making us both hoarse and we'll soon be as deaf as posts from the noise of the motor."

      "Aye, aye, skipper," breezed Dorothy, and disappeared aft.

      In a minute or two she returned with the things he had asked for. Bill showed her how to adjust the receivers of the phone set over the ear flaps of her helmet. Then reaching for the head set at the other end of the connecting line, he put it on and spoke into the mouthpiece which hung on his chest.

      "Much better, isn't it?" he asked in a normal tone.

      "It certainly is. I can hear you perfectly," she declared into her transmitter. " – What next?"

      "Come over here and sit on my lap. – I'm not trying to get fresh," he added with a grin, as she hesitated. "I've had to make a shift like this before with Dad. There is only one way to do it."

      Dorothy was a sensible girl. She obeyed his order and placed herself on his knees.

      "Now put your feet over mine on the rudder pedals. And remember-to turn right, push down on the right pedal, and vice versa. Get the idea?"

      "Quite, thanks."

      "Fine. Next-grab this stick and keep it as I have it. Now, I'm going to pull my feet from under yours-ready?"

      "Let her go!"

      Bill jerked his feet away, to leave Dorothy's resting on the pedals.

      "Good work!" he applauded. "The old bus hardly swerved. Keep her as she's pointed now. We can't change her course, much less take off until we hit one of those inlets along the Connecticut shore, and smoother water. Brace yourself now-I'm going to slide out of this seat."

      Dorothy was lifted quickly. Then she dropped back into the pilot's seat to find herself fighting the tenacious pull of heavy seas, straining her leg muscles to keep the plane from floundering.

      "How's it going?" Bill's voice came from the floor of the cockpit where he was busily engaged in pounding circulation back into his numbed legs and feet.

      "Great, thanks. But I will say that this amphibian of yours steers more like a loaded truck in a mudhole than an honest-to-goodness plane! How are your СКАЧАТЬ